There is an old story called “An Autobiography in Five Short Chapters” by Portia Nelson It’s told a lot in therapy, particularly addictions therapy, and I thought it seemed relevant given my experiences of this week. I was going to write it from memory, then I was going to copy it, and finally, I decided to take a shot at paraphrasing it my own way.
AUTOBIOGRAPHY IN FIVE SHORT CHAPTERS
as retold by ZazzyI
I paddle my little boat down the river.
There is a deep, murky swamp in my path.
I drift in.
I am lost … I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes me forever to find a way out.II
I paddle my little boat down the same river.
There is a deep, murky swamp in my path.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I drift in again.
I can’t believe I am in the same place
but, it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.III
I paddle my little boat down the same river.
There is a deep, murky swamp in my path.
I see it is there.
I still drift in … it’s a habit.
my eyes are open
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.IV
I paddle my little boat down the same river.
There is a deep, murky swamp in my path.
I paddle around it.V
I paddle down another river.
3 Comments
We paddle down another river. We stop every so often to rest and be sure the boat is in good shape. We understand that leaks are easier to fix when theyre tiny.
We paddle down another river and keep our eyes open for goodness – beautiful scenery, clouds overhead, the bright sun. We smile at other paddlers in other boats and wish them well on their journey.
We paddle down another river and don’t freak out when there’s a thunder storm or an unplanned problem to deal with, for we are confident and capable of adapting to many different situations.
We paddle down another river and know there will be new adventures around the next bend. We are okay with that. We feel strong, powerful, and alive.
Thank you, MN, and excellently put! I really like the way you followed through with my swamp analogy.
A friend commented the other day that I need to learn to put up a sail in my boat, use the wind to help me navigate the river. It’s interesting, I either paddle like mad with exclusion to all else or I drift about feeling helpless. Learning to do things differently, even to stop and fix the small leaks and enjoy the journey remain a little foreign to me. But perhaps that’s what I’m doing these days. I’m paddling some every day, trying to have some fun and enjoy the journey a bit every day, and working to avoid the snakes that occasionally fall out of the trees unexpectedly. Turns out that some of them are only rubber snakes anyway.
Hope to see you on the river.
OOoh, I forgot about the sail (um, and maybe the outboard motor?) It was so very helpful to read the poem, to write my response and to read your response. Very powerful to reflect on this (I cross the Mississippi once on the way to work and once coming home. The river is very special to me, and on Mon morning I’m going to look up from my knitting as the bus crosses the bridge and smile – a very big smile.